Chapter Text
Harry stretched as his alarm burst into a rousing chorus of Weasley Is Our King.
“Do you do this on purpose to make my life a misery?” Draco grumbled, his voice sleep rusty, but he still pulled Harry closer as he waved his hand to silence the alarm.
“No,” Harry let his body fall limp against Draco’s, relishing the slight soreness from the night before. “But that is a side effect that I don’t mind.”
“Wanker,” Draco pinched his side, and Harry squeaked and batted Draco’s hands away.
The sun streamed in. Part of Harry wished it was raining as that would make it easier to leave this little slice of paradise. He never regretted living in London, but having had a full week of huge skies and blue sea and soft white sand with trees that whispered in the breeze, the thought of going back to grey pavements and grey skies filled with grey rain was not appealing.
Although, he thought, as he looked up at Draco to see him already watching him, grey was not so bad a colour.
“Where do you live?” Harry asked, realising that Draco had never told him.
Draco shrugged. “Storie and I had a house in Notting Hill, but I insisted she have it in the divorce. She will have primary custody, so it is only fair that Scorp stays there with her. I will stay at the Manor until I can find somewhere for myself.”
“The Manor?” Harry propped himself up on his elbow. “But won’t that be awkward with your mum?”
Draco shrugged. “It’s big enough that I can avoid her a lot of the time, and, after all, it is technically my house. If she has a problem with it, then she is welcome to leave.”
Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s scarred chest. “I’m so proud of you for standing up to her.”
Colour flooded Draco’s cheeks. “Thank you. I… no one has ever told me that before.”
“Really?” Harry couldn’t believe it.
“No. Storie only said it was about time, and the others… well, you’ve seen us together. They aren’t the kind of people to talk about feelings.”
“Well,” Harry said after a few speechless moments. “I am so proud of you for figuring out what you want out of life and telling your mum to go suck it if she wasn’t going to support you.”
There was a pause, and then Draco burst out laughing. “Oh, how I wish I could see her face when you tell her that – are you sure you don’t want to come to the Manor and tell her?”
His laughter was so infectious that Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. “If you want me to, then I absolutely will.”
“One day, darling, one day.” Draco pulled Harry back down into the nest of sheets. “We don’t have long till we need to start packing, but just another five minutes…”
Harry didn’t mean to fall asleep again. But the sun was warm and the sheets were soft, and Draco’s hand had been running up and down his back so soothingly, that it was hardly a surprise.
What was a surprise, however, was the commotion outside the door that woke him, and the way the door crashed open as the wards finished having a fit. Because the issue with combining two rooms that allowed two different sets of people in was that the wards had to fight each other before anyone could get in.
And then it let them in very suddenly.
Ron took the brunt of it, ending up on the floor with Blaise on top of him, while Pansy and Hermione seemed to have the sense to stay further back, and they then pushed their way through the door, stepping over the pile of limbs on the floor.
“I bloody told you,” Pansy said. “I said he would have been spending too much time in someone else’s room.” She paused. “Nice arse, by the way, Potter.”
Harry grabbed the sheet to cover himself, managing to leave Draco quite naked in the process.
Ron made a sound like a dying swan. “That’s it, I’m going to have to obliviate myself. ‘Mione, tell St Mungo’s to prepare a room in Janus Thickey.”
“For heaven's sake, don’t be such a drama queen,” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “So, this is new.”
“No it isn’t.” Pansy settled herself in a chair and reached for the mini fridge, pulling out a small bottle of gin. “What? I had to see my best friend's cock before breakfast, I think that’s reason enough to need a drink.”
“So,” Blaise grabbed Pansy’s bottle, ignoring her protests as he took a swig and leant against the window, the picture of relaxed elegance despite having just scraped himself off the floor. “When did this start back up?”
“Back up?” Hermione glanced between them all. “What do you mean?”
“Oh you didn’t know?” Pansy looked unbearably smug as Draco summoned a pair of pants, which he slid on under the corner of the sheet he had pulled out of Harry’s death grip. “They were together back at school, in that silly little resit year. I would have thought you would have known, since you Gryffindors share a single brain.”
Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, surprise and betrayal in their eyes. Harry couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry. He knew he did the right thing back then.
“Draco asked me not to tell. He wasn’t out.”
Hermione’s face softened as understanding dawned. “And when you vanished after school…”
“I broke it off at the end of the year as my mother was insisting I marry Astoria.” Draco said. He didn’t make it sound like the harrowing experience it must have been.
“Oh…” It seemed he didn’t need to for Hermione to understand.
“So if you two,” Ron gestured to Harry and Draco, “were together in school and he broke it off to marry a woman, then why are you together again now?”
“Because I got divorced,” Draco replied, dry as ever.
“No, because Harry was a mess that summer,” Ron carried on, and Harry felt Draco tense next to him. “So I assume you didn’t tell him from the beginning, and you haven’t seen each other in… I dunno, ten years or more…”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence.
Harry took Draco’s hand. “Because I love him. I did then, and I do now. I don’t think I ever stopped. I knew that his relationship with his mother was difficult, so I could live with not blaming him. Maybe it would have hurt less if I had loved him less, but that doesn’t matter now.”
Hermione blinked at him. “Oh Harry, I think that’s the most emotionally mature thing I have ever heard you say.”
“I have a question,” Pansy broke the silence that followed.
“And I have no doubt you will ask us,” Draco muttered, and Harry had to hold back a snort.
“What about your mother? And Storie? And Scorpius?”
Draco patted the bed for his phone. “Mother will have to deal with it. I did as she asked and married a woman and had an heir, so she should be thankful for that. Not that she will be. As for Storie and Scorp, see for yourself.”
He handed Pansy his phone, and she read in silence for a minute, while Harry glanced curiously at Draco. He hadn’t noticed him sending any messages.
“Well, I don’t know what else I expected, that is very Storie-like.” She handed Draco his phone back, and he passed it to Harry without a word.
Harry ignored the rest of the group as he read the messages
Harry looked up to see Draco watching him. There was an anxious tension to him, written in the lines of his mouth and shoulders. He didn’t say anything, but just smiled and nodded, handing Draco his phone back.
His shoulders relaxed, clearly receiving the unspoken it’s ok, I’m glad.
“I still need to write to my mother,” Draco admitted under his breath.
“Do you need to write to her?” Harry asked. “It is your life, after all.”
Draco bit his lip. “I… I want to tell her. Not ask her permission, just tell her. About you. Because that is what normal people do when they start seeing someone.”
“But not everyone has a mother that forced them into a marriage that they didn’t want,” Harry tried to be gentle. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Draco’s mother to know, only that he didn’t want Draco to feel obligated to her.
Draco squeezed his hand. “If only it were that simple.” He turned to the rest of the room. “Right, we need to get dressed and pack, so unless you plan on helping, I suggest you leave.”
Nothing got Pansy and Blaise moving faster than the prospect of manual labour.
Hermione hugged Harry before she left the room, her wild hair tickling his nose. She didn’t say anything, but the squeeze she gave him told him that he was forgiven for any deception he might have had a part in.
Ron just clapped him on the shoulder as usual. “Well, I can’t say I saw it coming, but as long as you’re happy, mate. I’ll tell Mum to get started on another jumper.”
“You don’t have to do that-“ Harry began, but Ron cut him off.
“I might have the emotional range of a teaspoon-“ Hermione gave a small snort, “-but I’m not blind. You’ve got an hour and a half to get this all packed up, so don’t waste it arguing with me.”
He turned to Draco, offering a hand. “I suppose we will be seeing more of each other in future.”
Draco tugged awkwardly at his pants, still the only thing he was wearing. “Let’s hope not quite so literally.”
Ron grimaced. “Thank you for the reminder. Go put some clothes on.”
The waves were still whispering on the beach, and the trees still waved in the gentle breeze. Harry kind of wished it was raining and grey. Just anything that made going home feel less like a wrench. Funny how he hadn’t even really wanted to come on this holiday and now he didn’t want to go back.
Strong arms wrapped around his waist. Of course, there was one thing that made going back exciting.
He sighed and dropped his head back into Draco’s shoulder, sighing as he trailed kisses up the side of Harry’s neck.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he replied.
They stood there for a second, their cases now packed by the door and the seconds counting down until their portkey.
“What happens next?” Harry asked.
“We go home,” Draco replied. “We see our friends, our family, and we make time for each other. We ignore the papers, and we go on dates in the muggle world. We go to galas together and take advantage of the free bar and ignore the whispers and go home to fuck as soon as it is polite to do so, if not sooner. We will be happy.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is,” Draco stepped back and turned Harry in his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “What is more simple than this – I love you and you love me.”
When he said it, it did sound simple.
“Yeah, it is that simple. But it is so much easier here.”
“I know.” Draco pulled him into a hug. “It always would be because here there are no expectations. We are on holiday. It will be more difficult when you have commissions to work on, when I have a big case, when Scorp is home for the holidays, and my mother starts… well, being herself. But we can get through all of that.”
Harry breathed in the smell of him that had become so familiar over the last few days. It was similar to how he had smelled when they were younger – just close enough to tug at the strings of nostalgia, yet different enough to still be new. Much like their relationship.
“Yeah.” He pulled himself back with some effort. “We can.”
“Come on,” Draco took his hand and waved their bags to float ahead of them. “Let’s go.”
“I hope you enjoyed your stay, young men.”
“We did, thank you, Howard.”
The face in the mirror observed them both, as much as a face in a mirror could. “You have both found what you needed this week.”
“Thanks to you,” Harry said. He knew what Howard had meant now. Why he had merged their rooms. If they had been well suited back then, they were even more so now. They didn’t need each other, but they had both wanted each other, even if they had not realised it. And that made it all the more special.
“I hope to see you back here soon.”
“You will,” Harry looked at Draco, who was looking at him with soft eyes. “You will.”
The front door of Grimmauld Place looked less familiar than the front door of the house he had lived in for the best part of twenty years should.
Harry pushed it open and sighed. The house had that slightly stale smell of closed windows that he hated.
He had put so much work into the house when he first started living here after Hogwarts, spending an entire summer here taking out his anger at Draco’s marriage on ancient furniture, cursed heirlooms and filthy carpets, but now it felt almost as gloomy as it had before then, even with the September sun peeking through the persistent London grime that coated the windows no matter what he did.
His phone dinged.
He stared at his phone for a long while, even after the screen went black and all he could see was his own face staring back at him.
It shouldn’t feel weird to not have Draco around. It had only been a week.
Harry sighed, and put his phone away, flicking his wand to send his dirty laundry to the washing machine and the rest up to his room.
The silence was oppressive after so many days filled with laughing people and the distant crash of waves. The constant hum of traffic and scream of sirens was not the same.
The doorbell jangled and Harry frowned – who could possibly be coming to see him?
He opened the door, half expecting to see some door to door salesman.
Draco stood on the front step, his case at his feet and his hair askew. Pansy held him by the arm, her face a mask of irritation.
“What are you doing here?” Harry blurted out in surprise.
Pansy huffed. “I’m just dropping off this thing you forgot.”
“Pansy’s being dramatic,” Draco rolled his eyes.
“Maybe a bit, but you cannot stay with me.”
“Why not?” Draco glared at her.
Harry watched them back and forth, like a tennis game.
“Because,” she sighed. “I do not have enough room for you and all your… stuff. You can stay for a weekend if it’s just you, but not until you find a house. You are severely cramping my style and my space.”
“So what do you expect me to do?” Draco pouted. “Go back to the Manor with Mother ready to shout at me? Or try and avoid getting herpes in Blaise’s sex nest?”
“No, I expect you to go live with your boyfriend, like a normal person,” Pansy shoved Draco in Harry’s direction. “Here. He’s your responsibility now.”
The look she shot Harry would have been enough to make a weaker man weep. Fortunately, Harry had been friends with Ginny for far too long for a look to have any effect on him.
“Pansy!” Draco insisted. “Get back here!”
But she just turned on her heel and vanished with a crack.
Harry shrugged. “Come in and have a cup of tea?”
“I’m not drinking whatever swill you have here,” Draco picked up his case and came in. “I saw what you drank at the hotel. And I’m only staying until Pansy thinks I have settled, then I am going back to her flat to murder her.”
Harry just nodded, knowing full well that they would be back to best friends in a matter of days.
The kitchen felt warmer and brighter with Draco there as Harry put on water for the coffee that Draco had deemed acceptable.
“So,” Harry asked, as Draco plonked himself down at the table with a loud huff. “Why is Pansy so mad?”
“So I went back to the Manor,” Draco started. “And my mother was there. Unsurprising since she lives there, but what was surprising is the audacity that she has to try and tell me off for letting Astoria divorce me! As if I wanted to get married in the first place!”
Harry stepped in to save his sugar bowl from the perils of Draco’s flying hands.
“And I knew she had been restoring the Manor - I said she could, of course, or she would never let it rest - but it was exactly like it was before. She didn’t even make a single effort to change anything! And I told her when I said she could that I wanted the dining room done differently - one request, out of all the things I could have said! - and apparently, it is different, because the walls are now burgundy rather than oxblood, and the table is black walnut instead of mahogany!”
Harry put the mug down in front of Draco, but he barely seemed to notice.
“I just went up to my room, packed my stuff into my case and left, and then bloody Pansy kicks me out, as if I haven't had a hard enough day as it is!”
Grabbing him by one flailing hand, Harry pulled Draco up out of his chair and wrapped his arms around him, feeling the tension slowly drain out of him.
“You done?”
“For now.”
Harry pressed a kiss to the side of Draco’s face. “That’s all I ask for. Now,” he let Draco go. “Finish your coffee, you can unpack your stuff, then we are going shopping so you can tell me what tea you like.”
Draco looked at him for a long minute. “You do realise that if I unpack, then I will probably not move out.”
Harry knew it was a stupid idea, that really they needed to carry on getting to know each other, that they needed to spend more time as a couple, but Harry was a Gryffindor, damn it, and if Draco wanted it, then who was Harry to say no? “Yeah, I know.”
Draco looked up at him with wide grey eyes. “You mean it?”
Harry nodded. “I missed you too. And we all but lived together for a few months back at school, and I don’t know about you, but I am much better adjusted than I was back then.”
“That’s not all that hard,” Draco pointed out. “We had just come out of a war.”
“Then I think you should go and get the rest of your stuff.”
“Do I have to?” Draco asked, coyly, his hand wandering up Harry’s thigh. “Don’t you think that can wait until I’ve… settled in?”
Harry leant in to kiss that mischievous smirk off his face. After all, they had all the time in the world.